


No Shame

by tracinginthesand



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Filthy, One-Shot, PWP, Toys, Watersports, implied Natasha/Bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 11:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1548914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracinginthesand/pseuds/tracinginthesand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had shame once. It didn't suit her the way this does. She knows it, he knows it. She likes that his mores aren't of this world. He likes that hers aren't, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Shame

"I need--"

"What do you need, you dirty little thing? Do you need to be fucked? Do you need something inside you, stretching you open, even when I'm not here?"

She twisted and writhed under the man who spoke such filthy, wonderful words in her ear. She nodded, she couldn't help herself. Above her, the man laughed, low and pleased. He knelt on the bed, her hips pulled up on his thighs. His hands caressed her ribs, thumbs gently rubbing under her breasts. Her legs were spread wide, and she knew he could see exactly how wet she was, and it just got more obvious by the second he spent staring at her.

How much he loved looking at her was one of the most unnerving things about their relationship, and that was saying quite a bit. More than how he popped in and out, more than how she didn't know when he would decide to appear. He was just there and then he wasn't, and the only explanation she ever received from him on the subject was her old soul.

He moved one of his hands—his left—and slid a finger into her cunt. She keened, that small stimulation almost more than she could bear. He purred at her and did it again, watching. When he pulled it out completely, a trail glistened in the low light for a second before his finger disappeared into his mouth with an appreciative groan.

"That will have to tide me over, pet," he said. "I have other things to do to you."

He traced her lips with that same finger, and she caught it in her mouth. He laughed, and just the ragged edge showed as she sucked it gently, sweeping her tongue across like it was her favorite candy. She could taste her cunt, his spit, a heady combination. He wrapped the rest of his large hand around her face, moving it back and forth, up  
and down, just to prove he could, just for the pleasure of watching her neck work as he did it. She had his finger as far in as it could go, eyes closed in bliss at just that small contact. He loved her. She had no shame.

She had, once. It did not suit her the way this did.

He trailed his fingers lower. When had she become such an obsession? He had never said anything about what happened when he wasn't there. He wanted her to remember him, wanted her to need him. He produced a small green cylindrical dildo from thin air, covered with little nubbins. She flushed when she saw it.

"Ah, memories," he said, running his fingers over it. "Just relax, my filthy angel. We'll have you filled up in no time." He did take his time, however. He rolled it in his hands, sucked it into his mouth and hollowed his cheeks around its thick, barely-yielding length. He licked it, keeping his eyes on her. "I don't imagine this is the only big, green thing you want inside you." She glared at him, but it was through a hazy spike of undeniable lust, and he patted her mound and laughed again.

He took the dildo and positioned it right at her hole, which was wet, dark red, squeezing reflexively as she watched with barely disguised trepidation. "It always looks so big, doesn't it, pet?" He asked, musingly. "Right before it slides inside you, when you're still feeling so small, so narrow, before you remember how the want opens you. All desire opens us. To our own truths, to our own greeds. What we want is who we are."

He put one end in his palm and started to push it into her. She bucked, the invasion uncomfortable, and he put his other hand on her belly, twisted just so that his thumb played on her clit. His fingers splayed up. It was enough to still her. "Let it be, pet. Let it be inside you. Let yourself open up, my pretty one." She drew shuddering breaths, as if the air were water. He kept pushing, inexorable; her breaths became pants, then gasps, then mewls, and her hips moved now to get it fully inside her, and he smiled as his palm hit damp skin and sodden curls. He could see only the very dark green tip of the dildo peeking out, and he used his thumb to push it completely in. She groaned, completely drunk on the feeling. She was so full, it felt like it was splitting her open. She could barely move, and she was so utterly enamored of the feeling it was hard to breathe. It was the perfect size not to be pushed out if she bore down, the nubs all over holding it in place. She could feel it every time she shifted.

"Isn't that perfect?" His voice twirled into her ears. "Isn't that just like you've imagined? All for you, always for you, pet." He pushed her off his thighs and bent forward, one knee placed just so between her legs. The extra pressure made her yell, he swallowed the sound, pushing his tongue into her mouth. She felt two of his fingers, those delicious fingers, move between her legs, one on each side of her clit, and he started to rock her back and forth on his knee.

She didn't hold anything back. It only got in the way of the delicious, clawing pleasure. Words tangled her, put walls up around her. Words were for information, and this was knowledge from back before people had names for each other beyond mine and not mine. The noises coming out of her were from that time, ancient and terrifying as she grunted and hissed and pounded herself against his leg. His eyes devoured her and hers lost focus in the overwhelming need.

The pressure built in her greedy, sopping cunt. His fingers and leg left little room for her to move, and still less for her to desire. The disembodied cock inside her worked itself deeper and deeper, unforgiving in its texture. "Are you going to cum?" he asked. "Are you going to clench and squirt like the gorgeous, uncontrollable creature that you are? Do it, per. Give us a treat." He pressed harder with his fingers, and she slipped over the edge and into the shaking, sobbing abyss of her pleasure.

She thrashed, hands fisting in the sheets. He didn't stop stimulating her, not for a single moment of her climax, and he kept rocking her as she came down, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. He leaned over her to press their lips together. It wasn't a kiss, there was no tension in his mouth. It was a need. Sloppy, unfocused. Grateful. He pulled away, laughing low at the mess of her on his leg. He drew a finger through it and sucked on it, that blissful look in his eyes. She smiled, stretching and gasping when the toy still nudged inside her cunt, hard and demanding. She started to reach down, but he stopped her, wagging that same finger.

"Oh, I think not, pet," he said. "Don't you want to keep your new friend? I think you do. I think you want to be full all night long and wake up begging for cock. I think you want to walk to the shower with this inside you, feel it heavy and thick while you relieve yourself, know that it's there for as long as possible." Her breath hitched, and he grinned at the sudden light in her eyes. "Let's get you cleaned up." She tried moving, but the toy sent spasming cramps through her, and she cried out.

He moved instantly, mischeif-tinged concern in his eyes. He picked her up and carried her to the bathroom, placing her on her feet in the bath. She felt the toy move, gravity pulling it down inside her, and she squeezed her legs together, mewling. He was right. She didn't want to lose her new friend. There were holes inside her that could never be filled, but this... this was a start.

"Trust me, pet," he said, kneeling down in the large stall shower, black marble setting his pale skin off. "Spread your pretty legs for me." She shook her head, almost wildly. He smirked and slapped her thigh. "Come on, do it. Have I steered you wrong?" She took a breath and braced her hands against the wall behind her, shifting her legs so that her feet were slightly apart. "More," he said, slapping between them. She jerked and complied with his pinchings and guiding hands, until her feet were more than shoulder's-width apart and she felt the toy shifting dangerously. The textured nubs rubbed into her, inside her, overheated nerve endings firing and making her shudder. Her cunt kept tightening convulsively around it, starting the whole chain reaction again. The fear it would fall out, the clenching, the cramping, the pleasure of release, and then the fear again. She didn't want to lose it.

He just watched, running his fingers up through the outer folds of her, dwelling on how filled they were with her juices. He watched the muscles tighten and the answering quivers in her flesh. It was like being drugged, looking at the blood-flushed perfection of her.

"I have to--" she cut herself off, looking towards the toilet. Her face was flushed, too, and she shivered. There are many different kinds of need. "Do it here," he said, an entirely new depth of wickedness in his eyes. Hers went wide. This was not something they had ever talked about before. "I want to watch," he said, consideringly, almost wheedling. "I want to see everything your body does. I want to see you relax in yet another way for me." Her eyes fluttered halfway closed. "Look at me," he insisted. She did, and it took every ounce of willpower she had to relax enough to feel the flow start. It stopped just as fast, her whole body tensed at what she was doing. "Don't think about it, pet. Don't think about anything. Just let it out." She groaned, and it happened. The pleasure of it was more than just release, it was dirty, it was disgusting it was the most natural thing in the world. Her legs were spread far enough that her piss fell in a centered stream between her legs, and she watched him look at the flow reverently before he leaned forward so that the arc of it caught him in the chest.

She was too far gone to hold it now, and the look of arousal on his face was too intense to be denied. A moan escaped his flushed lips as she branded him, defiled him, soaked him. It was over too soon, and he lurched forward, burying his face in her cunt, lapping at her desperately. She watched him in wonder, lusting after his agonized delight. He laved her clit and nuzzled her tight curls, and the motions made her tighten around the toy inside her, which she had become used enough to that it was a surprise. It was an incredible rush, and she groaned, sagging against the warmed stone behind her. He brought her off again, lapping, suckling, until she shrieked, exhausted. He caught her up, and helped her settle on the stone bench, on her stomach, her arms and legs dangling.

"Be a good doll for me, pet," he murmured. "Just let me give you a bath and then to bed. Such a filthy girl you are." He left her there to rest, soaping himself thoroughly. Then he took a rough washcloth and got it hot in the spray, and started to clean her with it, scrubbing slightly to bring a flush to her. He pulled all her hair off her face and got it wet, making sure to close her nose while he rinsed. He swiped the washcloth up and down, into the crack in her ass, just to watch her grind into the stone, into the toy still seated deep in her cunt. Her mouth was slightly open as she watched him, eyes glazed, sated, wracked with how glorious she felt, wrung out and  
floating. When the washing was over, when he'd tormented her with rough cloth on her delicate, engorged cunt for long enough, he shut the water off and helped her walk back to the bed. He made her walk, taking her hands and moving backward as she staggered and had to move hunched over at first from the toy inside her. She slowly straightened, until she was practically strutting. He smiled at her. "So lovely, pet, seeing you stuffed up like that."

He helped her into bed, settling her on her side, legs drawn up, one hand between them. "Just hold your cunny for me, sweetheart, cup it just like that. Whenever you need to you can put a finger inside yourself and make sure it's still there. What a glorious thing, to be so full."

She nodded, so exhausted there was nothing left but trust and whatever dregs of arousal remained. He slapped her right on her mound, and her sound of surprise was a low moan. "So good," he told her. "Now, sleep with that inside you. Feel it move, feel it shift. That greedy quim will keep it inside, and you'll wake up satisfied."

He tucked the quilt around her and left her alone, her pleased groaning his favorite form of thanks. She pressed herself into the bed, eyes fluttering closed. Such a good night. All nights without shame were.


End file.
